Wasted
by Tokyopixie
Summary: They drifted apart over the summer...and now Hermione has a problem. (R/Hr) This is going to become R later I think...just a warning.
1. The Summer Without Friends

A/N: This is a story that's been running through my brain for awhile now.but never had time to actually get it down.I honestly have no idea how long it's going to be so just wait it out. I'm not sure of how good it is, so you'll have to let me know. Also, I haven't really been checking it over.so if there's any grammar/spelling errors.well.whoops.  
  
Disclaimer: Not mine! Not mine! It all belongs to the wonderful, brilliant JKR. (I want to be her.) BTW-The goddess (JKR) dropped R/Hr hints in COS movie! (the hand shake thing!)  
  
~*~Wasted~*~  
  
The summer after their fourth year changed each of the three. Ron and Harry grew a little wiser in consideration of the circumstances. Hermione grew thinner. When Harry went to stay with Ron at the Burrow for the remainder of the summer, Hermione heard from neither of her best friends.  
  
  
  
As the weeks stretched on, leading up to their rendezvous at King's Cross, Hermione found that eating was a painful experience. To her parents' deep worry, Hermione shied away from dinner table and instead locked herself into the gloominess of her bedroom. As she lost contact with the familiarity that was Ron and Harry, she began to wonder what it was that could be so wrong with her. A new kind of pain enveloped her.  
  
  
  
All the boys in her life were avoiding her, and Hermione could feel it. Viktor Krum had revoked his invitation for her to visit him. She hadn't really minded this too terribly, as she had been planning on going to the Burrow anyway. But, sadly, she never received a letter from either Ron or Harry. She tried to wish away the hurt, but instead she punished herself. Hermione knew logically that it was not practical, but the physical pain made her feel better. Somehow, the reality of it let her forget about the inner tumult.  
  
  
  
Finally, the day arrived when she was to confront her two best friends for the first time since the beginning of the summer. She didn't anticipate the encounter, instead she rather vehemently cursed it. Anxiety overwhelmed her as she sat in the train car, waiting for the familiar voices that she knew she would hear soon.  
  
  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
  
  
Ron and Harry rushed to the Hogwarts Express, not waiting for any of the other Weasley children to follow. Neither of them had heard from Hermione all summer and were anxious to see her.  
  
  
  
Ron was still a bit miffed at the thought that his best friend might have been too busy being wooed by Viktor Krum all summer to send a letter. However, now that the time had finally come to see her, it didn't matter that she had ignored both boys all summer. He just wanted to see her.  
  
Both of the eager boys had grown over the summer. They had each achieved new heights, several inches taller than the previous school year. However, as always, Ron still towered above Harry. Neither had had the chance to put on the weight to match the new height, but instead were rather lanky. One could never call either of them thin, however. Molly Weasley would never allow such a thing.  
  
  
  
"Do you think she's already on the train?" Harry asked, his voice much deeper than it had been in the previous school year.  
  
  
  
Ron turned to look around the crowded train station for their thick, curly brown haired best friend. "Probably. That's Hermione for you, always punctual and ready to go."  
  
  
  
With that, the two boys bounded onto the train and rushed from car to car, impatiently looking for their best friend. They nearly passed a car that had a thin girl with brown hair before Harry tugged at Ron's sweater.  
  
  
  
"Wha?" Ron asked, irritation evident. He missed her so much.  
  
  
  
"She's in there!" Harry indicated the car they were about to pass. Ron peered in to see the gaunt looking girl who was reading a book. She was already dressed in her Hogwarts robes. Harry and Ron looked at each other for a moment, each amazed at how thin Hermione had gotten.  
  
  
  
They didn't let it faze them however, and they rushed into the train car, making enough noise to scare the girl.  
  
  
  
"Hermione! We've missed you so much!" Ron blurted out before swiftly pulling her into a hug. Before she had time to respond, Harry had hugged her as well.  
  
  
  
Hermione turned to them and smiled weakly. "Hiya. Sorry I didn't wait for you down on the platform." she murmered.  
  
  
  
Ron and Harry exchanged glances. Hermione was different. She seemed so frail all of a sudden. Ron worried that he might break her if he wasn't careful.  
  
  
  
The two boys sat on either side of her. The three chatted the entire train ride to Hogwarts, discussing the upcoming school year and many other topics. One thing that they did not touch on, was the uneasy subject of the summer and what had happened. Obviously, none of the three were ready to discuss it. 


	2. Concern and Mashed Potatoes

A/N: Okay, so far, this story is working for me, what about you? Like it? Hate it? I dunno..  
  
Disclaimer: gotta love the goddess (JKR) who owns all the wonderful Harry Potter characters.she created such a masterpiece.full of all these rich characters (*sigh*)  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
  
  
When the students arrived in the Great Hall for the feast, the trio sat at their usual location at the Gryffindor table. However, something was different about the arrangement this year. Instead of Harry being in the middle, Ron found himself there with a friend on either side of him.  
  
  
  
Hermione had barely said a word on the trip to the Great Hall, and now as the Sorting began, she relished in the fact that there was no obligation to talk at all.  
  
  
  
The students watched as the first years were sorted, one by one into the houses. Each time the Sorting Hat announced a new Gryffindor, Harry and Ron clapped and hollered. It took Ron some time to notice that Hermione didn't share in their enthusiasm. Instead, she feebly clapped her hands at a slow tempo, barely expressing a sound. He watched her, his frown growing with concern.  
  
  
  
The sorting ended and then Dumbledore began his speech, informing the first years of the Great Forest and various other out-of-bounds Hogwarts areas. Once finished, he announced the beginning of the feast and heaps of food appeared on the tables in front of the students.  
  
  
  
All of the Gryffindor students eagerly reached for serving dishes and large serving ladles, helping themselves to platefuls of food. Ron was starving, and before many could get started on their first, he was on his second helping.  
  
  
  
He noticed that Harry was also fervently digging into his dinner. A loud chatter enveloped the table as students caught up with each other, narrating their summer holidays.  
  
  
  
Then Ron turned to look at Hermione as he reached for his goblet, full of pumpkin juice. She had framed her plate with little bits of different foods all along the rim, none of it reaching the middle of the plate, as if the different foods were afraid of touching each other. He also noticed that she wasn't eating it. Instead, Hermione prodded at the potatoes on her plate with a fork. Her elbow rested on the table, her hand supporting her chin. This uncharacteristically bad mannerism told him that something must be wrong. Hermione never breached table etiquette.  
  
  
  
Her downcast eyes glanced up at his, and she caught him staring at her, his mouth full of turkey. He gave her a lopsided grin, to which she returned a little smile. They both blushed at the awkwardness, but then Ron's robe was tugged at by Harry. The boys were trying to ask him a question about the Chudley Channons.  
  
  
  
"Ron!" Seamus called for the fifth time. "We asked you a question! Mr. Chudley Cannons expert my foot!" The boy scoffed.  
  
  
  
Ron smiled again at Hermione and then turned his attention to the group of fifth year Gryffindor boys. He made a mental note to talk to Hermione after dinner. He still felt hurt that she hadn't sent him a letter all summer, and now she looked skinny. Too skinny, in his opinion. He wondered what had happened over the summer. Ron felt the anger rising within at the thought that Viktor might have hurt her.  
  
  
  
"Yes! The Cannons DID win that game two years ago!" He yelled back at the others and then focused on his dinner. 


	3. An Orgasmic Ritual

A/N: Hmm.okay, this story is popping out of me like toast (from a toaster!)...this is my third chapter in at least a half hour...I hope you guys enjoy this..or hate it.okay.I hope it evokes SOME KIND of emotion!! ^.~  
  
Disclaimer: not mine not mine not mine! It all belongs to her majesty: JKR!  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
As the troupe followed the new prefect, Seamus Finnigan, to the Gryffindor portrait hole, Ron watched Hermione carefully.  
  
  
  
It surprised him that Seamus could be chosen for such a role over perfect Hermione. She was the obvious candidate, so there had to be some other reason that she hadn't received the honor.  
  
  
  
Seamus barked out little controlling complaints such as "Move it along!" painfully reminding Ron of when Percy had been prefect. He wondered if Seamus would be bossy the whole year. He knew that he and the others would have to attack the boy if it did indeed last the rest of the year. There would be no way that Seamus could survive the entire year giving the other boys orders.  
  
  
  
Ron turned his attention back to Hermione, who smiled timidly back up at him. He felt a momentary shock that she hadn't scolded him for staring. She was acting so...un-Hermione like. It was starting to really scare him.  
  
  
  
He reached down and touched her hand. Without looking for approval, he scooped it up into his own, and they walked the rest of the way to Gryffindor tower, hand in hand. He smiled, noting the soft warmth of her skin. It felt so natural to just hold this girl's hand. An emotion Ron couldn't quite identify filtered through his body.  
  
  
  
"Red Geraniums" Seamus called out to the Fat Lady in the portrait, who then nodded and opened up for them to pass through. The entire group filtered into the Gryffindor common room and listened to Seamus ramble on and on about where everything was. No one, not even the first years, seemed to be paying attention. Most everyone was tired from the long day and the ample amounts of food in their bellies.  
  
  
  
After Seamus's rant, most of the students headed up to bed. Before Hermione could get up the stairs, Ron again reached out to grab her hand. Harry turned around next to Hermione to look at Ron in surprise, mimicking Hermione's expression.  
  
  
  
"Ron?" asked Hermione carefully. Her voice sounded different. Harry's expression was just as quizzical.  
  
  
  
"Harry, I'll be up in a few minutes. I just wanted to talk to Hermione for a little bit." He smiled and nodded, trying to drop the hint that maybe Harry should go ahead and continue to go upstairs.  
  
  
  
Harry caught the indication in Ron's voice and headed back up the stairs, huffing indignantly. He immediately felt left out.  
  
  
  
Hermione's face had gone pink. She followed him back down the stairs that led up to the dormitories. They both sat on the couch facing the fire.  
  
  
  
"What is it Ron?" Hermione asked after they had situated themselves. They each sat cross-legged, facing each other on the dark burgundy sofa. He precariously, as if he might break her fragile body, took her hands in his own, looking up into her face with concern.  
  
  
  
"Hermione, what did Viktor Krum do to you?" He asked, holding his breath for fear of the horrors in her reply.  
  
  
  
To his surprise anger grew on her features. She glared at him and pulled her hands away from his.  
  
"For your information, I did not visit Viktor over the summer! That is none of your business Ronald Weasley!" She spat at him forcefully.  
  
  
  
Hermione leapt to her feet and rushed towards the stairs again. Ron's mind raced with thoughts. He had to stop her before she reached the girls' dormitory!  
  
  
  
"Hermione wait! I'm sorry. That was none of my business, you're right." He stood and grasped at her wrist. He wanted to say anything that would make her feel better. He would say anything to keep her there with him.  
  
  
  
Hermione's cold expression did not change. "Ron, you are an insensitive git!" With that, she slapped him hard across his left cheek. He noted that a fat tear rolled down her cheek before she freed her other hand of his grasp.  
  
  
  
She ran for the stairs, and he didn't try to stop her. Instead, heated anger coursed through his veins. He HAD apologized! He cursed to himself loudly as he watched her go. She was the one who was being insensitive! He had tried to help her and at least talk about it. All he had wanted to do was help her.  
  
  
  
But no! She didn't deem him fit enough as a friend to be able to divulge her problems to. He hated that she couldn't trust him like that. How could he have called her a 'friend'?  
  
  
  
Ron stormed up the stairs, stomping quite loudly. He reached the boys' dormitory, and once he entered it he had to endure Seamus's wrath. The prefect proceeded to holler at him for stomping so noisily.  
  
  
  
Ron merely ignored him as he walked over to his bed. He drew the curtains and ignored the others for the rest of the night.  
  
  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
  
  
Hermione cried quietly in her own bed. All the boys in her life were screwing her up. It all made no sense. She felt the urge for that physical pain again.  
  
  
  
In the hidden darkness of her curtains, Hermione craved the pain. She had packed the small razor blade that she had been using since the beginning, but she wondered if she could really do that here at Hogwarts. Everyone knew that Dumbledore had an uncanny ability to know everything that was happening. She didn't want him to know about her methods of distilling emotional pain.  
  
  
  
The desire became more than she could control, so she quietly thrust her hand out of the curtains to the night stand next to her four poster. Hermione reached inside the drawer for the plastic bag containing the razor blade. Once her hand had gotten hold of it, she pulled it back into the curtains.  
  
  
  
She remained still for a moment, to make sure that the other girls were in fact asleep. She held her breath as she gazed at the small blade. That blade had saved her from much internal turmoil.  
  
  
  
When Hermione had found out that she would not become prefect she had been very resentful. Dumbledore had sent her a letter informing her of his decision to give Seamus the position. It was all because of the circumstances with Voldemort he had said. Hermione actually found herself bestowing some of her anger on Harry for being her friend. That was when she had begun to cut.  
  
  
  
After a minute, Hermione determined from the snores that the other girls were asleep. She quietly opened the small plastic bag and retrieved the blade from it. She lifted up the sleeves of her dressing gown and gulped for air silently.  
  
  
  
No matter how many times she did it, Hermione always felt an overwhelming fear just before she ran the blade along her skin. She used to be terrified of the pain, now she was afraid of the consequences. She knew that if she hit the wrong vein, she could easily bleed to death.  
  
  
  
With an exhalation of breath, she symmetrically let the blade slice at the skin. She shuddered as droplets of blood welled up along the incisions. It was an almost addictive feeling to rid herself of the cares of the world. The cutting didn't hurt like it used to. Instead, she felt an almost enlightening sense of calm settle over her.  
  
  
  
It felt good. She ran the blade along her skin again, crimson liquid rising from beneath the surface of her skin. All the fears and angers and resentments she had been harboring floated away as she watched the blood. She sighed contentedly, wishing that scars didn't have to result from this. The whole thing was almost an orgasmic experience. Hermione shuddered again.  
  
  
  
After Hermione had cleaned up the blood and put the razor away, she lay back on her bed. No matter how long she stayed there, sleep did not come. Insomnia wasn't new to her. Like the cutting, it was something Hermione had grown used to over the summer. She knew that her new habits weren't healthy, but she found that there was nothing she could honestly do about them.  
  
  
  
So, she lay there in bed and contemplated the courses she was taking. She ran through the summer reading in her head over and over again until the sun came up. She felt exhausted, but moved to get up anyhow, hearing the other girls begin to stir. 


	4. Violent Encounter

A/N: First of all, Draco is a jerk. I hate the boy....he's fun as a story device though....that's for sure! Well, here's the next installment of "Wasted". Enjoy!  
  
Disclaimer: not mine! All belongs to JKR.duh!  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
  
  
The first week of school ambled along smoothly. After their row, Ron and Hermione had silently agreed to put it past them, and neither discussed it again.  
  
  
  
Ron quickly realized that he wasn't the only one noticing Hermione's frailty. Her clothes fit quite loosely, and her cheekbones protruded awkwardly. Even the teachers seemed to notice how thin Hermione had gotten. There were always dark circles under her eyes, as if she hadn't had any sleep.  
  
  
  
Ron's concern only grew as the days passed on. He and Harry had awkwardly decided to not discuss it. They determined that it wasn't their place to talk about it and that Hermione would probably yell at them for their concern anyhow.  
  
  
  
As they walked to their third potions class of the year, the students were all quiet. The Gryffindors were in the class with the Slytherins for yet another year. No one wanted to get on Professor Severus Snape's bad side. Neville's face became pale as they neared the classroom.  
  
  
  
"Hey Mudblood, did your boyfriend not feed you today?" A familiar sulky voice came up from behind the trio. All three of them turned to glare at Draco Malfoy. He was flanked on either side by Crabbe and Goyle, his thickheaded cronies.  
  
  
  
"Leave her alone, Malfoy." Harry threatened, draping an arm over Hermione's shoulders in an act of protection.  
  
  
  
"Shut up Potter, I wasn't speaking to you. So, Mudblood, what happened? Did poor Vickie decide that you needed a diet? You look like a skeleton." He cackled in delight as both Crabbe and Goyle snickered from behind him.  
  
  
  
Ron's nostrils flared in anger. He knew his face must be turning several shades darker, as he felt the anger rising within him. He grasped at Hermione's hand. She looked up at him briefly and he couldn't make out the emotion that was flitting across her features.  
  
"Malfoy, I'll beat you so hard." Ron began furiously.  
  
  
  
"What's wrong Weasel? Jealous of the skeleton's boyfriend? Maybe if you gave her a pastry she'll sleep with you too!" He and his cronies broke out into laughter and Ron could contain his heated anger no more. He was about to swing at the shorter blonde boy when Hermione slapped him.  
  
  
  
"How dare you? What gives you the right to make fun? You stuck up little prissy boy." Hermione hissed. Apparently Hermione is getting good at slapping people, Ron noted. He could detect a pink mark appearing on Malfoy's face in the shape of a hand.  
  
  
  
Malfoy recovered quickly and grabbed at Hermione's arm.  
  
  
  
"Oh Mudblood! Whatever happened to your arm? Did Vickie-boy claw at you when you tried to give him your muggle cooties?" He pulled back her sleeve to reveal several gash marks up and down Hermione's forearm.  
  
  
  
Hermione tried in vain to push the sleeve back up her arm to conceal the scars on her wrist. She looked futilely at her best friends for help, but they were both staring at her arm, paralyzed in shock.  
  
  
  
Hermione struggled against Malfoy's grasp and when he wouldn't let go, she gave a swift kick to his shin, causing him to release her arm. She rashly pulled the sleeve back down her arm to cover up the gashes.  
  
  
  
"What is going on here?" A low, inherently evil sounding voice came from behind the students. All the students turned to look up at Professor Snape.  
  
  
  
"Professor! Granger kicked me in the leg!" Malfoy hollered, grasping at his shin melodramatically.  
  
  
  
"Ah, I see. Miss Granger, come here for a moment, would you?" He asked civilly.  
  
  
  
Instead of obediently walking to her teacher, Hermione turned on her heel and ran. She ran as fast as she could, feeling very much out of shape. She heard students and Snape calling to her from behind, but she ignored them all.  
  
  
  
As tears streamed down her cheeks, Hermione ran towards Gryffindor tower. She needed to be alone. She couldn't even face her own best friends. Hermione didn't even let the prospect of the consequences of her actions process in her mind. She had to get away. 


	5. Disgruntled Discussion

A/N: Hey, thanks all for your lovely reviews. I appreciate it! ^.~  
  
Disclaimer: Not mine.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Ron trepidatiously stepped towards the girls' dormitory. He had left Potions early, feigning illness, which he was sure that Professor Snape had been skeptical. He had to find out why Hermione had those scars on her wrists. He had to know what Victor Krum had done to her.  
  
  
  
Ron clattered up the abandoned stairwell, nearly tripping twice. He found himself standing in front of the heavy wooden door leading to the girls' dormitory, panting heavily. He had run nearly the whole way from the Potions classroom. Delicately, he opened the door and popped his head in.  
  
  
  
The curtains were drawn around Hermione's bed and he could hear her breathing heavily. Ron walked cautiously over to her bed before calling out to her.  
  
  
  
"Hermione? Are you all right?" He asked quietly. In response, he heard a gasp and quick shuffling of the sheets.  
  
  
  
"Go away, Ron!" she shouted loudly. He refused to let her remain self- contained. He pushed back the curtains.  
  
  
  
"Ron, I said---!" she nearly screamed. He gasped in response at what befell his eyes. He sleeves had been pushed back and blood was seeping from her wrists. He also spied a small razor resting on top of a plastic bag on her sheets. Hermione looked up at him, a guilty expression on her face.  
  
  
  
"Oh, Hermione!" he gasped again. He rushed to her wrists and futilely tried to stop the bleeding. He covered the large gashes with his hands, wondering how she could do this. "Hermione, what happened? Did you cut yourself?" He knew she must have done it, but he couldn't comprehend why.  
  
  
  
"Ron, please." She began to sob. "Just go away...." She looked up into his eyes, hers filled with tears. Hermione tried to pull her hands away from his, but he her wrists firmly.  
  
"No, Hermione. I can't leave you like this. Tell me what happened, please." He looked down at her, feeling a twinge of pain in what he guessed might be his heart.  
  
  
  
"Why should I, Ron? You didn't care all summer, why should you care now?" Hermione murmured under her breath. She glared up at him, heated anger radiating off of her.  
  
  
  
"Hermione, I love and care about you. As for the summer, you didn't write us a single letter! Hermione, what happened to you?" He attempted to apply pressure to the shreds of skin still oozing blood.  
  
  
  
"You..love me?" Her gaze shifted to her bleeding wrists.  
  
  
  
"Well yeah, friends love each other, right?" He muttered uncomfortably.  
  
  
  
"Oh. Okay." She replied and again tried to wrench her wrists away from him.  
  
  
  
"Hermione, tell me what happened, please. Did Viktor do something to you?" He pressed again.  
  
  
  
Hermione took a deep, pained breath before looking up at him again. His efforts to calm the bleeding were finally beginning to work. "Ron, it's complicated."  
  
  
  
"Try me." He looked at her with great concern. If Krum had laid a finger on her..  
  
  
  
"Ron, it's none of your business." She said quietly. He finally let her pull her wrists away from him.  
  
  
  
"Hermione, why are you skirting the problem? It's important! You could get yourself seriously hurt!" He felt anger rising in him. 'Why doesn't she want to talk about it?'  
  
  
  
"Get out Ron. It's none of your business!" She turned her back to him and stared at the wall that her four-poster touched. He knew that this was her indication of the end of the discussion. The stubborn girl would not talk anymore about it.  
  
  
  
"Fine Hermione! But you're going to wish you had someone to talk to, and when it comes time, it's not going to be me! It's nice to know who's your friend when it all comes down to it!"  
  
  
  
"Get out Ron!" she shouted after him. He stormed out of the dormitory and stomped down the stairs into the common room, huffing as plopped onto the couch.  
  
  
  
Ron stared off into space, anger forcing him to lose focus. Hermione could be so damned stubborn. He was worried about her, and all she could do was push him away. He hated her, he decided. He hated Hermione. She couldn't even fucking consider him a friend, let alone any sort of confidant. Damn her. He punched the dark forest green pillow roughly in anger. 


	6. Author's Note

Author's Note:   
  
  
I plan to continue this story....I've just been extremely busy w/ holiday nonsense....but keep checking back, I hope to update soon!  
  
  
  
~tokyopixie~ 


	7. A Conversation Among Friends

A/N: Heyo! Sorry this took so darned long to get out! But it's finally here! Chapter 6 of Wasted! (the holidays are a nuisance!)  
  
  
  
Disclaimer: It all belongs to Mrs. JKR (I hear she got married….)  
  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
  
The two boys sat together at the chess table near the window of the Gryffindor Common Room. They were the only students in the room at this late hour. Ron eyed Harry critically as the other boy made a fatal move.   
  
  
Ron smiled as he moved his knight forward. "Checkmate." He glanced up to see the growing scowl coming across Harry's face. "You lose again. Honestly Harry, why do you even bother anymore? You have yet to win."  
  
  
Harry shot him an indignant look before snapping, "I'm getting better, you know. One of these days I'm gonna beat you. You'll see." The two Gryffindor students moved the chess pieces across the board back into their proper black and white blocks.   
  
  
Ron stared nervously at the board. He wanted to talk to Harry about it, but it was an uncomfortable subject. He took a deep, calming breath.   
  
  
"Uh……..Harry?" He almost stuttered as he looked up at his friend.  
  
  
Harry looked up in response, his eyes curious. "Yeah Ron?" Harry suddenly seemed very serious, as though he knew that Ron hadn't paused to gloat yet again.  
  
  
"Ha---Harry, have you um noticed something very different about Hermione this year?" Ron's gaze shifted back to the white queen on the board as she rebuilt herself into one whole piece.  
  
  
"What do you mean?" Harry asked cautiously. A slight hint of knowing and seriousness sounded in his voice.  
  
"Oh please, Harry! As if you haven't noticed! The girl's become a rail! She's so bloody thin, it's scary. Not to mention the running away from Snape. Hermione would NEVER run away from a professor!" Ron blurted out in fury at the feigned ignorance from Harry.  
  
  
"Oh……that." Harry gulped uncomfortably. His gaze also shifted to the chess board.  
  
  
"Yeah, that!"  
  
  
"Well……yes, I suppose I have noticed. Ron, are you worried about her?" Harry looked back up at Ron, concern written across his features. Harry looked quite like how Ron felt. Both the boys were worried about their friend.  
  
  
"Harry, how can we not be? Didn't you see those scars on her wrists? I think Krum did something to her. Do you think he sliced her wrists?" Ron's eyes misted at the thought of Krum hurting his Hermione. 'No!' He scolded himself. 'She's not my Hermione…she's Hermione.'  
  
  
"I don't know what happened. I also don't think it's Krum, I trust him, Ron. He seemed like a good enough guy. Maybe a bit misguided, but well enough."  
  
  
Ron felt anger flaring within him. Harry was defending the enemy! "Harry! How can you defend him? He obviously hurt Hermione! Her hurt her horribly!"  
  
  
Harry watched his friend's anguished face. Then he gasped a thought slipped through the recesses of his mind. "Ron."  
  
  
"Yeah?" His voice was tinged with anger.  
  
  
"You love her, don't you?" Harry watched as Ron's eyes rose to meet his. His eyes gave him away.  
  
  
"Of course I love her. I love all my friends." Ron and Harry both blushed at the implication.   
  
  
Harry shook his head. He looked back at Ron again, a seriousness in his tone. "Ron, you're IN love with her. Aren't you?"  
  
  
A guilty expression spread on Ron's face. "No I'm not." Ron's face grew very pink as the blush spread to his ears.  
  
  
"Yes, you are, aren't you?" Harry didn't understand how he couldn't see it before. While it kind of grossed him out, he understood. Ron needs her. He wondered if maybe Hermione needed Ron too. Maybe that was cure to this spreading ailment. His eyes flashed with the thought. "Ron, you love her! You might be just what saves her life! Ron, you have to go to her, and help her. Just talk to her."   
  
  
Ron's face paled at the thought. He remembered yesterday and the vehemence he had seen on her face. He shook his head angrily. "I already tried that. She's too bloody stubborn! I've already given up on her. So what if I love Hermione? It doesn't make a difference because she's in love with that Quidditch oaf."  
  
  
Harry felt heated fury rising within him. "Ron! Don't be so stubborn! One of you has to be the bigger person here. Ron, she needs help!"  
  
  
Ron glared at his best friend. "I can't help her."  
  
  
"Yes you can! Just get over the temper-tantrums and go to her. Tell her how you feel and find out what's happened to her."  
  
  
"No." Ron retorted crossly.  
  
  
"Ron, if you don't, she might die." The look on Harry's face sent chills down Ron's spine. 


	8. Too Late

A/N: I thank everyone for there reviews. I really do appreciate them. ^.~  
  
Disclaimer: notminenotminenotmine!  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
  
After the chess game, Ron had stalked out of the common room. He needed time to think to himself. He absently stalked the hallways, having neither aim nor direction of where he might go. Ron stepped through the doors of the library, noting the peace and quiet of the large room, the musty smell of books washing over him. He had walked to table best hidden from the door by bookcases. His only worry was that Hermione might find him.  
  
  
While Ron sat sulking, he thought about everything that Harry had said. Hermione was in real trouble, and he didn't know how he could help her. Harry had been right about many things.   
  
  
It had taken him awhile to realize it, but his feelings for Hermione extended beyond those of just a friend. His heart ached at the thought of what that punk Viktor Krum had done to her.   
  
  
Yet, he reminded himself, she said she hadn't gone to visit him. Does that mean she didn't see him at all? He wondered if maybe Viktor had chosen to visit her instead. Ron sighed loudly and rested his chin in his hands, elbows on the table. He feared for her life, knowing that she was quickly disappearing. Every day, there was a little less of her. He feared that before he got a chance to hold her, there would be no more of her to hold.  
  
  
He slammed his hand roughly against the table, beating it hard. He yelped in pain. Frustration overwhelmed him. He had no clue as to how he could help Hermione. He wanted to help her, but he feared that there was nothing he could do for her.  
  
  
"Just get over the temper-tantrums and go to her. Tell her how you feel and find out what's happened to her."  
  
  
Maybe Harry was right. Yet, he still had to get up the nerve to tell her such a thing. It wouldn't be easy, especially if she gave him that glare. That hurtful glare that told him he could never have her, that he couldn't protect her.  
  
  
With a new air of determination, Ron stood up. He fled from the library, causing many students to eye him curiously as he pushed past the heavy wooden door. He wasn't sure of what he would say to her, but he knew that he had to say something.  
  
  
~****~  
  
  
Ron hurried back through the portrait hole and into the Gryffindor common room. Harry jumped to his feet and rushed over to his red-headed friend.  
  
  
"Ron---" He began, but Ron waved him off. He needed to speak to her now. He needed to do it before he lost his nerve.  
  
  
"No Harry. I have to talk to Hermione right now." He hurriedly crossed the room towards the staircase that led to the dormitories.  
  
  
"No, Ron. Listen to me!" Harry urged as he followed Ron to the steps. "RON! STOP!" He grabbed Ron's shoulder, turning him brusquely around.  
  
  
Ron glared at him vehemently. 'Certainly this could wait!' He thought. "What is it Harry?! I have to go speak to Hermione! I'm doing just what you asked of me!"  
  
  
Harry's face appeared pained and hurt. Parvati Patil came up behind him, resting a hand on his shoulder.  
  
  
"Ron, Hermione is in the hospital wing. She isn't well." A frown was on her face. It was the first time he had ever seen her show concern for Hermione. "You hurt her badly, Ron. If I were you, I wouldn't go to her for awhile….."   
  
  
Parvati pushed past him and climbed the steps up to the dormitory. It almost seemed that she had had tears in her eyes.   
  
  
"The….the hospital wing?" Ron felt his eyes go misty. He glared at Harry, in question. "What does Parvati mean, Harry? What happened?" Ron grabbed at the collar of Harry's sweater.  
  
Harry gulped and attempted to loosen Ron's grip. "Ron, relax. Please. Hermione was found in her bed, blood was everywhere. Her wrists had been sliced open."  
  
  
Ron released Harry's collar and cried out. He stumbled over to an easy chair and sat uncomfortably. "What….what happened to her?" He couldn't bring himself to look up at Harry. Instead, his gaze remained fixed on the rug.  
  
  
"Madam Pomfrey thinks someone attacked Hermione. But do you honestly believe someone would go in and slit her wrists?" He responded uneasily.  
  
  
Ron felt anger flaring within him again as looked up to glare at his best friend. "And what do you think? Huh? Do you think she would slit her own wrists?! What kind of a friend are you anyway? Thinking your friend would hurt herself on purpose…. Honestly!"  
  
  
Ron stood up. He gave one last, lingering glare at Harry before he headed to the portrait hole.   
  
  
"Ron, wait!" Harry called after him.  
  
  
But Ron did not respond. Instead, he climbed through the hole and left Harry standing there in the common room, a look of unease upon his face. 


End file.
